


All Hallow's Eve

by Ladylokioftardis



Category: Celtic Mythology
Genre: Crack Fic, Halloween, goddess become human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladylokioftardis/pseuds/Ladylokioftardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am Andraste, a Celtic Goddess of old.<br/>I have reincarnated into a human girl to serve a purpose, and as I stood in the dollarama with two human friends of mine, I realized why.<br/>All Hallow's Eve had been warped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Hallow's Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Basically crack

I am Andraste, a Celtic Goddess of old.  
I have reincarnated into a human girl to serve a purpose, and as I stood in the dollarama with two human friends of mine, I realized why.  
All Hallow's Eve had been warped.

"Come on, Andrea! You have to help me choose!" Emma insisted, tugging on my sleeve.  
I was not impressed.

Andrea was my human name, a twisted version of my real name.

"How about a demon?" I asked, trying to be as helpful as I could. As much as I disliked the human race, for all their stupidity, I had grown quite fond of my friends.

"Brilliant! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she shouted, and started grabbing at random pieces of costume.  
Ethan, Emma's twin brother, was a couple rows over looking for candy.

The disguises so cleverly used in the past were now nothing more than childish play-things, and it truly is an insult for all the Samhain (pronounced [SAH-wain] or [SAH-win]) spirits.

I looked on as Emma went and picked a shiny red costume with plastic horns and a fake tail.  
I rose an eyebrow at that.  
That's their opinion of how demons look like? Oh gods, I really had to do something about that.

And then a brilliant idea wormed it's way into my head.  
I would bring the true All Hallow's Eve back!

At midnight on the night before Halloween, I would summon the greatest spirits known to have ever come to play on this holiday.

That way, I could warn the people of the carnage to come (knowing they wouldn't believe me anyways) before it began.

I momentarily stopped my planning and started looking for Emma, who I had lost while plotting.

~~

When I returned home after three hours of shopping with Emma and Ethan, I got a notebook and started listing what I would need.

Candles (black and white),  
Incense,  
Chalk,  
My old Book of Shadows,  
I continued listing things like that for a while, until my phone started ringing.  
A brilliant invention, that little device.

"Hello?" I asked as I returned to my list.

"Hey Andy! Me and Emma wanted to know if you would be coming to our annual Halloween party? It's going to be so fun!" Ethan asked, gushing a bit.  
I chuckled at his childishness, before forming my answer.

"When is it this year?" I asked.

"October 30th. I figured it would be best" he said, and I thought about it.  
I could do it at midnight in the forest behind their house... Brilliant!

"Yeah, of course I'll come! You and your twin are my best friends, I couldn't let you down!" I weaved a tale faster than any other could.

"Cool! We'll see you at school tomorrow, right?" Ethan asked me.  
I smiled wickedly.

"Without a doubt, Ethan" I said and we chatted a bit more before we hung up.

I would start installing fear in the minds of the students tomorrow at school, teach them a bit of history.

~At school the next day~

"You know, Halloween used to be about fear" I started at lunch, sitting in front of Ethan and Emma.

"Really? How so?" Ethan asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. Emma nodded.

"Well, All Hallow's Eve used to be the time where the veil between the worlds was the thinnest, so the people would wear scary costumes to hide amongst the demons and ghouls, and leave offerings for them at their doors." I explained, picking at my reheated spaghetti.

Emma rose an eyebrow at me.

"How would you know?" she asked suspiciously. I just shrugged my shoulders.  
Ethan, on the other hand, seemed to be devouring my words.  
He was the gossip king in the school.

"What about the Jack-O-Lantern? What's that all about?" he asked, leaning over the table to get closer to me so he could hear better.  
I let a small smile creep onto my face at his eagerness.

"Well, you see, According to an ancient Irish myth, Stingy Jack sat down to have a drink with the devil. And just like his name tells us, Stingy Jack didn’t want to pay for his drink. He cajoled the devil to turn himself into a coin that Jack would use to pay for their drinks. But as soon as the devil did so, Jack pocketed the coin. Jack kept a small silver cross in that same pocket and the cross kept the devil from changing back into his true form. Jack struck a deal with the devil and freed him under the condition that he would not trouble Jack for one year and would not claim his soul if he died.

When the agreed upon year was up, the devil returned, but Jack tricked him again. He convinced the devil that he should climb into a tree to pick a ripe piece of fruit. Jack carved a sign of the cross into the trunk of the tree so that the devil couldn’t come down until he promised Jack not to bother him for ten more years." I said, taking a bite out of my food to build suspense, but Emma took it as a perfect place to interrupt.

"Nonsense, don't listen to such silly and foolish stories, Ethan!" she said, and frowned at me.  
Ethan just waved at her and shushed her into a pouting silence.

"So, where was I again? Right, ten years. Well, not long after, Jack died. Legend has it that such an unsavory character could not be accepted into heaven. Meanwhile, the devil, angered by the tricks Jack had played on him and keeping his word, would not claim his soul or allow Jack into hell. He sent Jack off into the dark night with only a burning coal to light his path.

Jack carved out a turnip and put the coal in it so it wouldn’t burn his hands. According to the myth, Jack has been roaming the Earth ever since, carrying his turnip lantern. The Irish began to refer to this ghostly figure as 'Jack of the Lantern' and then simply as 'Jack O’Lantern.'

People in Ireland, Scotland and England began to carve scary faces into turnips, potatoes and beets. They would place them in windows and doorways to frighten away the roaming ghost of Stingy Jack and other wandering spirits.

When immigrants from these countries came to America, they brought the Jack O’Lantern tradition with them. Here they quickly discovered what we now know; pumpkins make perfect Jack O’Lanterns!" I ended my story with a perfectly ghoulish grin.  
Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes, but Ethan seemed to want more.

"Is there anything else you can tell me? About original Halloween things, you know?" he asked, his tone of voice begging for information.  
I laughed at his demand.

"How about I play the story-teller at your party?" I suggested, knowing it would be the perfect occasion.  
Ethan grinned at me and nodded his head feverishly.

The bell rang, and the cafeteria cleared out, all the students returning to their classes.

~Later that night~

I needed a costume for the party. With all my plotting and planning, not to mention research for the story I would tell, I hadn’t thought of the costume I would wear to fit in.  
I picked up my phone and dialed Emma's number.

"Yes?" she asked, sounding distracted.

"Hey Emma, I just realized that I don't have a costume for your party. Any ideas?" I asked, heading to the kitchen for a drink.

"Well, you could go as... Oh, you could go as an angel and complete my costume!" she said.  
I rose an eyebrow at that suggestion.

"But I thought that was what Ethan was going as?" I asked, deciding on tea.  
It really was an art, making tea, and British people had been mastering it for centuries. It made me want to go over there, just for a good cup of tea.

I settled on Orange Pekoe, and set some water to boil.  
Emma groaned through the phone.

"Aw man! Okay then, how about... An enchantress?" she suggested, and it made an idea pop into my head.

"Thank you so much, I just got a brilliant idea!" I said, a grin on my face.

"Enchantress?" she asked. I chuckled a bit.

"No, even better! But it's a surprise, so I'm not going to tell you!" I teased. I would take my medieval fighting gear and go as a warrior.

~Night of the party~

Everything was going quite well, I knew of the place where I would summon the ghosts and demons.

"-And tonight, our dear friend Andrea will be telling scary stories!" Emma announced, gesturing towards me with a hand.  
I smiled slightly as a spotlight came onto me, putting me in evidence to the crowd of teenagers as I walked up to the stage.

"I have decided to recite the tale of Sleepy Hollow, possibly followed by a poem by Edgar Allan Poe" I started, arranging the microphone before closing my eyes and recalling the story.

"In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they always prudently shortened sail, and implored the protection of St. Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a small market-town or rural port, which by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly known by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given, we are told, in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the village tavern on market days.

Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact, but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little valley, or rather lap of land, among high hills, which is one of the quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it, with just murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasional whistle of a quail, or tapping of a woodpecker, is almost the only sound that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquility.

From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this sequestered glen has long been known by the name of Sleepy Hollow, and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the neighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere.

Some say that the place was bewitched by a high German doctor, during the early days of the settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered by Master Hendrick Hudson. Certain it is, the place still continues under the sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds of the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie. They are given to all kinds of marvelous beliefs; are subject to trances and visions; and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in the air. The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots, and twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare oftener across the valley than in any other part of the country, and the nightmare, with her whole nine fold, seems to make it the favorite scene of her gambols.

The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the apparition of a figure on horseback without a head. It is said by some to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannonball, in some nameless battle during the revolutionary war; and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk, hurrying along in the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and especially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning this spectre, allege that the body of the trooper, having been buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest of his head; and that the rushing speed with which he sometimes passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the church-yard before daybreak.

Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows; and the spectre is known, at all the country firesides, by the name of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.-" I started the tale, reciting it by heart.

As I recounted the story I had seen and heard told and retold more than enough times in my lifetime, I looked at all the candles lit around the room.  
They were orange and black, and emitted an eerie glow around the room, slightly worrying me.  
I didn't want the house to burn down before I got a chance to frighten everyone.

The night went on quickly, a creepy music as background noise while I recited the Legend of Sleepy Hollow to make it all the more frightening. My audience was captured, absolutely mesmerized by the story I had witnessed in person. I wasn’t certain they would remember every word when the night was through, but I knew for certain they’d always have an interest in that particular story.

When I finished my tale, I hopped off the stage while the party-goers shook themselves from their daze. I chatted and drank apple cider, played a few games that amused everyone greatly. By the time eleven o’clock rolled around, everyone was well into their drinks.

"Hey Andrea. I thought you were going to recite a poem?" Ethan asked as he came over, a red plastic cup in hand.

"Well, I wasn't sure anyone wanted to hear it..." I played the shy little girl, so that they wouldn't know my true motives. I had been hoping for a quick escape, I wouldn't miss my rendezvous with certain dark spirits. And I certainly didn’t want to miss their midnight showing.

"Nonsense! Get your ass up there!" he shouted, obviously drunk.  
I rolled my eyes at him, but dragged my feet back up to the stage.

"Hey guys, I'm back! My beloved friend Ethan made me notice that I forgot about the poem part of my performance. So this is 'The Haunted Palace' by Edgar Allan Poe.

In the greenest of our valleys

By good angels tenanted,

Once a fair and stately palace —

Snow-white palace — reared its head.

In the monarch thought's dominion —

It stood there!

Never Seraph spread his pinion

Over fabric half so fair.

 

Banners yellow, glorious, golden,

On its roof did float and flow —

This — all this — was in the olden

Time long ago —

And every gentle air that dallied,

In that sweet day,

Along the rampart plumed and pallid,

A winged odour went away.

 

All wanderers in that happy valley,

Through two luminous windows saw

Spirits moving musically

To a lute's well tuned law,

Round about a throne where sitting

(Porphyrogene!)

In state his glory well befitting,

The sovereign of the realm was seen.

 

And all with pearl and ruby glowing

Was the fair palace door ;

Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,

And sparkling evermore,

A troop of echoes, whose sweet duty

Was but to sing

In voices of surpassing beauty,

The wit and wisdom of their king.

 

But evil things in robes of sorrow,

Assailed the monarch's high estate!

Ah, let us mourn — for never morrow

Shall dawn upon him desolate!

And round about his home the glory,

That blushed and bloomed,

Is but a dim-remembered story

Of the old time entombed.

 

And travellers now within that valley,

Through the red-litten windows, see

Vast forms that move fantastically

To a discordant melody;

While, like a rapid ghastly river,

Through the pale door;

A hideous throng rush out forever,

And laugh — but smile no more."

It didn't take as long as I thought it would. The teenagers weren’t entirely paying attention to me this time, and for that I was thankful. The poem served as background noise, an additional factor for the creepy ambiance. Soon, I was out in the backyard, strolling towards the forest.

I arrived and lit a circle of thirteen candles with a flick of my hand.  
As I walked to the center, I spread my arms and closed my eyes, feeling the veil between life and death thinning as time ticked by slowly. I felt it quivering like a tremor of anticipation when midnight rolled around. I tilted my head back and chanted my spell to the air,

 

Bushes quiver where shadows lean,

The moon is full and bright

And we shall see what can't be seen

On any other night.

 

Skeletons and ghosts and ghouls,

Grinning goblins fighting duels,

Werewolves rising from their tombs,

Witches on their magic brooms.

 

On this night and in this hour,

I call upon the ancient power,

That creatures of Hallow's Eves past,

May roam the earth at last

And take back what's theirs of right

On this now Halloween night! 

I pulled a short dagger out of my coat and slicing the blade across my palm. Blood dripped down and I tightened my hand into a fist, letting the blood drip down and into the middle of the circle, on the earth.  
The earth caved, and out came souls and demons spiraling upwards to the heavens.

The moonlight shone brightly on my face, turning everything shades of black and silver as the candles blew out in a domino effect.

I felt the air shiver with compressed magick and returned quickly to the party, clutching my hand and putting a terrified look on my face.

I spread a bit of blood and dirt on my face for effect, disheveling my hair and putting a bit more crimson plasma on my clothing before I stumbled into the mansion, practically in tears.

"They're true! The stories, the poems, the fake warnings! They're all true!" I screeched, falling to my knees in fake sobs, clutching my bleeding hand to my chest.

"Oh my god, Andrea! Are you alright?" Emma spotted me first and threw herself at me, checking me all over for wounds.  
She only found the one on my hand.

"Th-They c -cut me and- and did something with my b- blood" I sobbed, gasping for breath.  
I couldn't believe how gullible they were as they practically drank my words, clinging on to everything I said.

~All Hallow's Eve~

That day at school, I had to repeat my lie countless times over and over again, but it was working.  
They were slowly believing that I wasn't making this shit up.

But they weren't believing me enough to actually do anything about it.  
They were still going to live on as though nothing had happened and they would perish and I would be proved right, and then I would get to return to my Shadowrealm.

Now you must be wondering what a Shadowrealm is? Well, long story short, it's an alternate and parallel universe created from a God or Goddess' energy.  
There are doors to Shadowrealms all over the planet earth, but that's another story for another time.

It was presently nine o'clock pm and Emma and Ethan were coming to pick me up for some 'trick or treating'.  
Little did they know, things would go horribly wrong.

I heard a knock on the door and hurried over, opening it and rushing into my friends' open arms.

"Hey Ethan, hey Emma. I don't think we should do this..." I trailed off, forcing a blush to creep onto my cheeks.  
They both chuckled at me, and I sorta hoped they would listen.  
Sorta.

We ran around for an hour, me going along with their childish collecting of sugary treats, until ten o'clock rolled around and things started getting a little eerie.  
Fog started rolling up, the wind picked up and a chill ran down my spine.

"Guys, I- I think we should head home now" I said, not completely feigning the fear in my voice.

"Come on, Andrea! Live a little!" my friends shouted and continued their prancing.  
I stopped playing along when I saw the tell-tale turnip lantern floating around without an owner.

My back straightened and the fear slowly dissolved from my eyes as I let myself melt back into the Goddess part that had remained in my mind.

"Emma and Ethan, if you do not feel like living the rest of your Halloweens in fear, shivering in your closet, I strongly suggest you return home this instant" I said, allowing the ringing command to drip from my voice.

"Wow, Andrea! Where did that come from?" they asked, looking at me in surprise.  
My lip curled involuntarily at the name.

"First of all, my name isn't Andrea it's Andraste. I'm a Goddess of War and you should get the hell out of here before All Hallow's Eve makes a comeback" I growled at them, my eyes narrowing to slits.

Ethan looked amazed (though not quite surprised) and Emma looked horrified.

"Just do as I say" I pressed, pointing a finger in the direction we came from.  
They both shook their heads.

I sighed with exasperation, but the fog quickly thickened and creatures started materializing in the fog.  
They seemed to come right out of thin air, but I knew they were simply slipping through cracks in adjoining Shadowrealms.  
This night had caused the veils to thin and I had completely broken them the night before, allowing access.

But as screams started echoing through the night as proof of my success, I could feel my earthly body start to fade.  
First in the fingertips, and then slowly gathering up speed and limbs, my flesh disintegrating.  
It didn't hurt, though it did tickle a bit.

You know when your foot's asleep? That's what it felt like, pins and needles, spreading across my skin like tiny spider spinning their web.

"Andrea, good luck!" Ethan's voice was the last thing I heard as all hell was set loose on Earth and I was sent back to where I came from. 

I couldn’t help a small, secret smile.


End file.
